Chapter 434: A Familiar Welcome

"Bring food in your face tonight. Mrs. Edith notices empty stomachs like a crime."

"You already told her I forget to eat."

"I will tell her again. Consistency is love."

The rest of the drive loosened into smaller things, whether Velaris still had that bad intersection, whether Mia still talked too fast when she was happy, whether Sacha should have brought something and the mutual conclusion that showing up was the something. Comfortable silence opened between the remarks and did not feel like a hole.

The streets changed. Quieter houses. Softer lamps. He turned into a lot opposite a familiar front and parked. The engine died and left them in a brief, ticking quiet.

"So, that’s their place," Sacha said, looking across the road. "It’s looking pretty good. Even though it’s not the same as their place back in Inksea before they moved here, it still brings back memories."

"Yeah..." Stan nodded.

Then they both got out of the car. Night air was cooler here, with a trace of someone’s dinner from an open window. They walked together toward the house. Sacha bumped his shoulder once, lightly.

"Normal face," she murmured.

"I don’t have a face."

"You have several. Use the one that didn’t just do math about women."

He almost smiled again. The path was short. The ugly little light was exactly as he remembered. They stopped at the door, the two of them in a small pool of it, the house waiting on the other side with its kitchen and its absences and its living people.

Stan lifted his hand and knocked.

The second knock had barely faded when a voice came from inside, soft and close.

"I’m coming."

Footsteps. A latch. The door opened on evening light and the warm smell of a house that had been cooking something earlier and had not quite let it go.

Mia stood in the frame.

She was striking in the way some women were when time had been generous and then refused to finish the job.

A voluptuous, soft figure with full, heavy breasts straining gently against a casual top, a narrow waist that flared into wide, rounded hips, thick thighs under simple clothes, the whole of her radiating mature femininity without trying.

Her face was warm and lovely. The smile that rose on it was bright and unguarded, and it took years off her at once. Skin luminous. Eyes lively.

That delight found Stan first. Sacha might as well have been part of the porch light, completely ignored as Mia stepped forward without hesitation and pulled Stan into her.

The hug was full-body and unapologetic. Soft, generous weight pressed into his chest, the give of her breasts, the heat of her through thin fabric, the faint scent of her skin and hair, something clean and a little sweet, like soap and the house itself. Her arms locked around him with familiar firmness, as if the week since his last visit had been a year. Stan let it happen. He always did, with her. She was just as she were the last time he visited, the lovely childhood friend he’d came to love, Quiet pleasure moved through him at the contact, the known shape of her, the way she fitted against him without calculation. He rested a hand at her back and felt her breathe.

It lasted long enough to be more than greeting.

Then Mia became aware of the third person. She drew back slowly, eyes drifting to the woman at Stan’s side. The more mature face snagged on old pictures, porch steps, a dry voice, an older girl who had always been her Sis. A flush of memories and nostalgia hit her hard as recognition arrived with a small shock.

"Is that... Sis Sacha?"

Stan nodded, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "Same Sis Sacha."

Mia turned and pulled Sacha in just as tightly, holding on a beat longer than politeness required. "Sis Sacha, it’s been so long... your face is a bit different. I almost didn’t recognise you. I missed you and Stan a lot..."

Sacha was already smiling. The smile had teeth.

"Really? Cause it seems you missed Stan a lot more... even though he visited you and Aunty just a week and half ago."

Heat flooded Mia’s cheeks. She pulled back just enough to look at Sacha, still holding her arms. "It’s not like that..."

"Oh?" Sacha’s voice stayed light, almost fond. "Then what is it like? Tell me. Cause it seems you’ve forgotten all about me..."

Mia shook her head quickly, still flushed, a little laugh escaping despite herself. "I’ll never forget you, Sis Sacha. You’re the one who used to steal my hair ties and tell Aunty I started it."

"And you’re the one who used to climb into Stan’s lap the second he sat down and pretend you were just cold." Sacha glanced at Stan, eyes bright. "Some things don’t change."

Stan lifted his hands in mock surrender. "I am an innocent porch visitor."

"Innocent," Sacha repeated, tasting the word. She looked back at Mia. "He still lets you hug him like that, I see. Full wrap. No escape. Very dedicated hostess."

Mia’s ears went pink. She swatted Sacha’s arm, half-hearted. "Stop. I hug people. That’s what I do."

"You hug him like he’s been gone to war." Sacha’s tone stayed playful, but there was a glint in it. "I get the polite squeeze. He gets the whole menu."

Stan’s hand found Mia’s shoulder, a brief, grounding touch. "She missed both of us. That’s what she said."

Mia seized the opening, nodding too fast. "I did. Both of you. It’s just, Stan comes more often, so the hug has practice. That’s all."

Sacha’s laugh was low and pleased. "Practice. That’s a word." She leaned in and kissed Mia’s cheek, quick and warm. "Fine. I’ll accept my second-place hug for now. But you’re making it up to me inside. Tea. Gossip. No running off to cling to him the second Aunty calls me or something."

Mia’s smile returned, bright again, a little shy around the edges. "I won’t run off."

"Liar," Sacha said, fond. She linked her arm through Mia’s and tugged her toward the doorway. "Come on. Let the man breathe for five minutes. He looks like he enjoyed that a bit too much to be useful yet. Poor me, getting all forgotten by you while Stan gets all the love..."